


Bare-knuckled causality

by NTK



Series: Who needs plans anyway [6]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Geraskier, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Omega Verse, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, so many vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NTK/pseuds/NTK
Summary: Sequel to ‘Mending’ – Moments are being had and hopes are nurtured. The catalyst is found but the sleeper has already been woken. Because sometimes, life throws you between a witcher and an eternal sentence…
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Who needs plans anyway [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700353
Comments: 27
Kudos: 247





	Bare-knuckled causality

**Author's Note:**

> You guys… I’m late. Sorry!! I was planning on finishing this part last Monday. I am however currently moving, and things have been super busy; so busy in fact that I couldn’t keep my eyes open the past few evenings. Ugh. But now the worst bit is done and my mind is back to this series!  
> Once again, I thank you for all the kudos and amazing comments; they make my day. All the cookies in the world for you!! Now, I don’t want to keep you waiting, especially since we’re approaching the dramatic climax of the series *drumroll* So here it is – part six!  
> More intel for the upcoming part (again incl. **SPOILER FOR THE WITCHER 3 AND ITS DLCs** ):  
> Sigismund Dijkstra – the former head of the Redanian intelligence and after a decision Geralt was forced to make during Wild Hunt, the chancellor and leader of Redania.

The orphanage was located some miles outside Beauclair. It had been a strategic decision, of course. All children here had food and a roof over their head. They also shared a secret; the price they owed to their savoir. Their matriarch.

How she loathed her. Even during her own less ethical times, she had drawn a line there. Small humans had a particularly sweet taste to them, but it had just felt… wrong. Maybe that had been the first sign. Too much compassion. Perhaps it was meant to be like that. Even if her chosen path would likely also be her downfall.

The modest wooden door opened, and _she_ stepped out, suave as ever, with a knowing smile on her red lips. “Hello Emilia. What do I owe this necessary visit to?”

The spoken-to crossed her arms and pointed her chin towards the orphanage. “Aren’t you afraid the good people of Toussaint will find you out?”

The redhead’s patronizing laugh basically answered the question. “The good people of Toussaint couldn’t care less about those children. If they would starve and their corpses ended up in the sewers, the good people of Toussaint would merely complain about the smell. And wouldn’t that be a terrible waste.”

Her grin widened as she regarded Emilia with a curious gaze. “You must be thirsty. How long have you fasted already? Months, years? It must hurt when you are close to your human.” Children laughed somewhere inside the house. “Can I offer you a drink?”

The burn in her throat was bearable but far from pleasant. That bitch. “No thanks.”

Orianna rolled her eyes. “Then get to the point please.”

“Alright then, let’s cut the niceties: Why did you do it?”

The other vampire casually leaned her frame on the wall next to the door. “I assume you refer to the little incident with the omega.” She crossed her arms. “Granted, I underestimated Kacper. Or rather, overestimated his abilities. Mulas have thinned out; perhaps that’s why.”

Emilia’s irritation grew. If she wouldn’t have to see another of her kind ever again once this was over, she wouldn’t mind a bit. Regis being the exception. “You didn’t tell me that the plan changed. You don’t trust me.”

“Don’t bore me. Of course, I don’t trust you. And I am quite right not to, am I not? You broke our contract.”

She clenched her fists. The feeling that approached was still quite unfamiliar: Fear. How did Orianna find out?

“You were to lure them away long enough for the seed to be planted and tail them to witness the aftermath, not lend them your megascope. Thanks to you, they learned of the pregnancy before we could extract the omega. You rendered all out initial plans impossible.” Her eyes glimmered with something dangerous. “If you thought I wouldn’t monitor you while you were monitoring them, you really are daft.” She huffed. “But that won’t be a problem any longer because I know that I will have your full support from now on.”

The urge to turn and rip out her throat was strong, but Emilia knew why she couldn’t. Apart from the fact that Orianna was older and stronger than herself, she had the power to destroy her in far worse ways than the obvious one. “How so?”, she snarled.

The redhead answered with an innocent smile. “Because after you leave here, you will return to your lair. And find it empty. A reminder of who you owe your loyalty to, if you like.”

Emilia’s fear imploded. No, fuck no. “What did you do to him?” She could barely keep her voice down. Orianna just looked her up and down, obviously amused by her dread.

“You’ll get him back if you stick to the plan from now on.”

She had to stay calm. She had to swallow as much of her panic and anger as possible. Everything was at stake. “What is the new plan then?”, she managed to utter after a few moments.

While the matriarch watched some of her children play in the garden to their right, one could have mistaken her calm and seemingly satisfied expression of that belonging to a loving mother. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. She was merely checking if her life stock grew fat and tasty. “It is time, orders have been given.”, she proclaimed unenthusiastically as if speaking about nothing but a transaction over mere cattle. “And your inconvenient meddling luckily had a favourable side effect: They trust you enough to let you near the omega. Which is why you will take him.”

Her heart fell. So that was it. It was down to her.

“…unless you need more encouragement. I’m pretty sure your mate can do without his limbs. For a time.”

“No need.” If these were the options she was left with, the decision was easy. Painful, shameful – but easy. “It will be done.”

\- - -

The weeks passed surprisingly quickly with their friends coming and going. Geralt had fully recovered, partly thanks to Jaskier’s good care. He examined and dressed his wounds daily and reminded him to take things slow. What the witcher had always interpreted as nothing but good bedside manner turned out to be not entirely selfless... Now that they knew about how they’d secretly been pining after each other, one or two little secrets revealed themselves.

Jaskier marvelling the new addition to the witcher’s collection of scars had eventually turned into him licking the thick red lines. In the end, the bard had eagerly sucked Geralt’s cock and was rewarded by the longest, most intense rimming session the witcher had ever given. Damn, he loved to eat him out. His mate tasted even sweeter now that he was carrying their child. In that particular instance, the omega had come shouting into their pillows after just two shallow strokes by Geralt’s hand.

In turn, Jaskier’s growing bump was something that did a great many things to the witcher, often simultaneously. Geralt hadn’t been prepared for how turned on he would be by his pregnant mate, glowing with life and the promise of their miracle. The sensation of this vast, incomparable love he felt for both of them sometimes still threatened to steel his breath, like it had when he first learned of their child. Then, there was also the worry, sure. The bard’s headache and sickness had passed a week before the end of the third trimester. On good days, Jaskier was cheerful, frequently singing and playing cards with whoever was home. Then there were days when he barely left the bed and even had a mild fever. Nothing too serious yet, but considering that they’d only reached the three-month mark, what would they face later on?

What both good and bad times had in common were the frequent episodes of something resembling a heat. Which fit the witcher’s hunger for his mate perfectly. Whenever they had a chance, they were at each other. Mostly in their bed, with Geralt gritting his teeth and covering Jaskier’s mouth to keep him quiet. The omega slowly but surely made him feel like an addict. Even as he encouraged Geralt to take on smaller contracts in the area to take off his mind and get some fresh air, the witcher always returned home early and _hungry_. He had to be careful not to end up spiralling into a rut. Jaskier couldn’t take such a straining episode right now.

Regis had explained the heat bursts as an equivalent of pregnant omega and beta females still having their period while already pregnant. Officially, he was the only one outside the pair who knew. Then again, the other alphas around the house sensed it too, especially the witchers. One time during dinner, Lambert got uncharacteristically flustered and left most of his meal behind to ‘patrol the grounds’. Eskel’s gaze sometimes lingered on Jaskier just that tiny bit too long to mean nothing. Of course, Geralt trusted his brothers, but he also knew they couldn’t help the affect an omnipresent omega in a semi-heat had on them. Perhaps it even had to do with the fact that the child was part witcher… Either way, Geralt was more at ease when the third person at home was neither of his brothers, but Regis or Emilia.

Even Yen. Whether it was a motherly instinct by proxy or her pragmatic nature, she had spent more and more time with them, evidently coming to terms with how destiny had rolled the dices. What bothered her most of all at this point was the fact that despite their best efforts, they were still not much closer to finding whoever was behind the dead professors and the attempted kidnapping.

“Are you going out again?”, Geralt asked when Yen donned her black cape one evening.

“To see someone who could help with this mess, I hope.”

“Who?”

Yennefer only put a finger over the faint smile on her lips. “You have your contacts, I have mine.” She tied a ribbon into the cord on her hood. “We finally need to get to the bottom of this. Shani is too close to the university to dig any deeper, Regis is officially on the run and Emilia must be careful who to approach from her community because of the impending anathema on her head. And since you are tied to your miraculously pregnant mate, I will continue the fieldwork.”

Geralt’s amused huff had her roll her eyes at him.

“Let me guess. You’re imagining me on my knees with my hands in the ground, digging for vegetables.”

“I would never.”

That got him a soft punch against the arm.

“Anyway, I am currently trying to find out what happened to the remaining professor. He and his colleagues started whatever this is; now most if not all of them are dead and someone tries to take the product of their breakthrough research.” She turned to head to the door with an exhausted yet determined expression. “I’ll be back later and with answers, I hope. In the meantime, make sure to be more careful in bed with him.”

“What do you take me for?”

“I know how eager you can get.” She dismissively brushed off something on his sleeve as she passed him. “It’s something I’ve always appreciated about you. And I suppose I can only begin to imagine how you are with him.”

Something in the witcher’s gut twisted. “Yen…”

“No, Geralt. I meant it; It’s fine.” The hurt look in her eyes was real, as was her smile. “I’m even inclined to say that I’m happy for you. It’s just… I wish it would’ve been us. That we could have had this. So bear with my jealousy, will you? It’s not often that I don’t get what I want.”

She turned to leave and all Geralt could do was stare after her. A few years ago, he’d wanted that too, or at least he’d thought so. Today though, they both knew it would be a lie to go after her. For Geralt, there was no denying Jaskier anymore.

“Of course, in case I come across the concoction that caused all of this, I might just take off with that instead.”, She added at the door.

“Yen… you know the danger of meddling with these kinds of things. Happy as I am about how it turned out for us, there are still risks.”

“And yet…”, she winked at him playfully before slipping out of the hall.

\- - -

Jaskier was bored.

He wasn’t used to seeing the same walls and grounds day in and day out for weeks. He’d been traveling the world for years until recently, never staying in the same place for longer than a brief time and although Corvo Bianco was lovely and he’d secretly hoped to stay here with Geralt even before their lives had been turned upside down, it was always a matter of choice. In his pregnant state, he would normally still travel short ways – visit the tournament grounds and cheer on the knights before taking one of the many stages set up during the festive season. He didn’t need to return to the Throttled Gull anytime soon, but just seeing Beauclair, strolling through the busy streets… Thanks to an unknown culprit lurking in the shadows, it wasn’t possible.

Apart from his need for a change of scenery, he also felt useless. Hell, he was a bard, a poet and storyteller; had been a Redanian and a Temerian spy in his spare time, a schemer and adventurer. And yet he couldn’t do shit to help with their most recent problem. Because it was him people were after. Or better, his unborn child. And as restless as he was – with what was at stake, he had no urge to bend the rules of his confinement (only once or twice a week, when Geralt and him wanted to do some loud ploughing on the fields). Still… Jaskier was bored.

And so, on days that felt like the one before and the one before that, he spent his time close to the house, exploring what he could around the estate. Today, he had gotten up with the wish to do something productive or at least educational. It might come in handy to know a little more about the local flora. Probably. Oh, what the hell, there was nothing else to do, so he took to the greenhouse with a book and more or less determination to know all plants inside by dinner time.

As he lounged in the sun and examined the pretty red petals of the winter cherry – something he’d seen Geralt use in whatever he brew in his alchemy lab – a shadow fell on his kneeling figure.

“Gwent? Pastries? Music? What does the songbird’s weary heart require?”

“Plants. I’m on a field trip right now.”

“Doesn’t look like the fieldtrips you take Geralt on.”

“Oh for fuck’s- have you been watching us again?”

Emilia shrugged. “Someone has to, when you take up all of the witcher’s attention in such creative ways… I was rooting for you the other day, but whatever you did there, it looked like he won. Or well, both of you, I guess.”

“You- you are-“ He tried to find a term with enough leverage to express the level of intrusion. “A shameless, blood-sucking voyeur!”

The blonde laughed and sat down beside him. “Apart from the blood-sucking, it looks like we’re finally getting to know each other quite well.”

“Well you’re getting to know more of me than I can stomach.”, he mumbled.

“Oh please, you like being watched and I can’t blame you. But this…”, she stretched out her legs and pointed her toe at the winter cherry. “I wouldn’t have thought you’re a herbalist at heart.”

“I am not. I just ran out of ideas on how to spend my time.” Jaskier threw the book away. According to Regis’ notes, the plant was used to craft mutagens and he already had enough of those inside of him as it was. “I’m an artist and while Toussaint is perhaps one of the most inspiring places, it’s hard to find inspiration when you just sit around and wait for others to handle the adventurous tasks. As things stand, I cannot even go and watch tonight’s fireworks…”

“I see. You’d surely enjoy the festivities around this time of year under different circumstances.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes.” He smiled as he thought back to the last time he attended; music and dance, games and lovers hiding in the bushes of the palace gardens. “Did you ever take part? It’s a marvellous evening. So much to do, so many little secrets to discover in the city. Scandals in every nook, laughter and fights…”

She smiled and threw her head back. “I did take part. Me and my mate- well. We were one of those scandals a few years back. That’s how his father found out about us, you see. News travel fast in the court.” She squinted her eyes, looking at something in the distance. “Actually, you should be able to see the fireworks from here. Quite well, too.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, it’s a good distance to get the full view.”

Jaskier couldn’t stifle his triumphant shout. Finally, a small diversion. “Oh the blooming fires in the sky, the dancing stars of joyous colours, traveling to the heavens up high, to regale beast, men and all others.”

“And there it is, your inspiration. While you’re at it, why not compose something for your child?”

When the bard looked over to her, surprised by the brilliant and unexpected idea, Emilia’s eyes were wide and filled with something like panic. As if she’d just shared a secret unwillingly or said something truly rude. Perhaps because of the concerns Regis had mentioned in relation to the pregnancy?

“No, no, that’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I mean, I’m constantly thinking about him.”

He touched his belly. Their child was about the size of a grapefruit now. He’d have some time to craft the lyrics and tune before he’d be as round as Shani. With all that’s been going on, he’d only tentatively allowed himself to imagine what it would be like, to hold his and Geralt’s small creation... Perhaps he should call in and have the baby talk with her after all? Shani would be due soon and although Emilia let them keep the megascope for the time being, the medic hadn’t contacted them for a few weeks. The witchers, Yen and Regis had decided to keep her out of the ongoing mess – both because of her being with child and her close relations to the university of Oxenfurt. But surely, she wouldn’t mind a private talk about their shared expectations?

“I hope he’ll have his eyes.”, he shared without thinking. “I love his eyes…”

Emilia was silent. She looked at her own feet, as if in deep thought.

“Hey, would you mind putting me through to our friend Shani? I’d do it myself, but I can’t remember the exact words for the location of her device.”

As if she snapped out of something, the vampiress’ signature smile reappeared as she looked over to him, winked and nodded. “Nothing as easy as that.”

\- - -

Geralt was still covered in mercenary blood when he led Roach into her stable. As he headed over to the house, the grounds were uncommonly quiet and empty.

“Good hunt?”, Eskel greeted him. He was sitting on the grindstone, a variety of different blades next to him on the table.

“Hmm. Just fisstech-crazed mercs who ran off with a prized horse. Where is everyone?”

“B.B. had them leave early so they can go and see the tournament.”

“Awfully nice of him. Don’t you want to go?”

Eskel frowned. “And see mediocre sword skills from amateurs in over-polished tin cans? No thanks.” At that, Geralt didn’t feel the need to share that he himself had once been talked into taking part by a lovesick knight. “Regis was looking for you. Said something about the research he did. He’ll be back after dinner.”

Geralt nodded and left his brother to the swords.

When he entered the house, he was met with a curious smell. From the kitchen, most likely. The arguing voices of Jaskier and Lambert confirmed his guess.

“They don’t go together, I told you!”

“Can hardly rely on your pregnant sense of smell. You’ll see, they will be good.”

An exhausted and mildly confused looking Marlene entered the hall and put plates on the table, greeting Geralt with a smile. “Welcome back. I’m not sure I can say you should look forward to dinner…”

“Hey, don’t drive her crazy with your weird experiments.”, he called as he put down his swords.

When Jaskier appeared from the kitchen, Geralt could still smell him through the haze of meat and whatever they had done to it. A smile tugged at his mouth, as it did quite often these days. Not a bad way to be greeted when coming home.

“Look at you, all mussed and bloody.”, the omega said and tugged at a strand of his hair. “I think you’ll never get clean again. Maybe I should help.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you trust Lambert with dinner? I’ll be fine on my own. Will jump in the river behind the house.”

“No, yes, you definitely need some help with that.”, Jaskier insisted and gave him a _look_ that made Geralt think the bard was probably right.

The overly dramatic eyeroll that provoked from Lambert was hilarious. “Don’t take too long or the pork-chocolate roast will get cold.”

“Thanks mum.”, Geralt huffed as he dragged the omega with him through the door and into the backyard.

Half an hour later, the alpha was immensely grateful B.B. had given everyone some time off. Otherwise one or two workers might have found him and Jaskier in a rather memorable position further up the stream.

„Seriously Geralt, do you plan to fuck me like a virgin until I give birth?”, the omega uttered as he was pressed down into a soft, shallow spot on the riverbank, his legs raised and Geralt halfway inside of him.

At that, the witcher drew out a little and teased the bard with a few shallow thrusts. Jaskier sighed, somewhere between relief and frustration. Geralt chuckled and kissed the corner of his lips apologetically.

“Better safe than sorry. Too important, this…”

He pushed Jaskier’s legs up higher, sinking deeper into him and moaned into his neck as he did so, nibbling on the sensitive skin beneath his ear. He liked that spot. So vulnerable.

“Once it’s just you and me again, I’m going to have you all the ways I want.”

The omega let out a heated breath, combing his hands though Geralt’s wet hair.

“Upside down, in public, against every surface we can find. Maybe I’ll even ask one of the others to watch. I saw the way they looked at you the other day…” The bard’s cheeks heated up and he panted as the witcher set a punishingly slow rhythm. “Would you like that? To have them watch while I fuck you?”

A shuddering moan escaped the omega and Geralt knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “... thought so.”

“Ah, d-don’t mock me.”

“Hmm.” The witcher bit down on his omega’s mark, a little harder than he had planned. The idea turned him on as well. He’d never been vain, but the way Jaskier looked underneath him… how could anyone not be proud of that view? The bard arched his back as Geralt’s imagination made him pick up the pace. Just a little more-

“Geralt… t-take me like you did the first time.”

The witcher slowed down. “You’d be head down in the water.”

“Barely.”, he panted. “I want you to… see me.”

Geralt groaned in pleasure at the admission. Fuck, he was perfect. When the witcher pulled carefully and him back down, Jaskier turned around, propped himself up on his knees and spread his legs. The view presented to the alpha was almost enough for him to come against his back. The bard’s hole was so well stretched, red and wet. The witcher couldn’t resist and spread Jaskier’s cheeks further to have a good long look at him. His mate’s head was turned to the side and Geralt knew he watched him from the far corner of his eye.

“Look at what you do to me.”, Jaskier breathed while the flowing water framed his face and Geralt was at a loss of words. Instead he bent down to lick him, kiss him, taste him, but only briefly before he aligned his rock-hard cock again and glided into him with ease, pushing home. The omega arched back against him, taking him as deep as possible while Geralt bent over his crouching figure, kissed his neck and captured the bard’s mouth with his hand. No, this moment belonged to them; he couldn’t allow anyone else to have a piece of it.

With both of them so incredibly turned on by each other, it didn’t take long after that. Five, seven hard thrusts and they came together, Jaskier shouting into Geralt’s hand while the witcher bit down hard on his neck.

Spent, wet and exhausted, the alpha came down to lie behind Jaskier, pulling him into his arms and to his chest. The feeling of his mussed, brown hair against Geralt’s face calmed him, reassured him that he wouldn’t just wake up in some distant bog without him. So in his blissful, raw state, the witcher uttered a few words; some of which he’d only ever used once before.

The sound Jaskier made in response was half panting, half breathless laugh. He turned in the witcher’s embrace, put a wet arm around his neck and kissed him so unbearably softly. The moist underneath his eyes could have been from the river they had just fucked in.

“Now, don’t go soft on me, witcher.”, he muttered quietly against Geralt’s mouth.

“Too late.”, he promised in return.

\- - -

Of course the roast was cold when they returned. Marlene was however gracious enough to heat it up for the couple. Geralt hadn’t been sure if she’d approve of them, until two weeks ago, when the maid surprised him with a spontaneous confession.

“Thank you for bringing the boy back.”, she’d said. “He was such good company. I would have missed him dearly had he left.”

Jaskier had been moved when he told him, but of course he’d glossed over that with unbearable smugness. Since then, there was no reason to doubt that the elderly lady was fully on board with the bard staying indefinitely.

Soon after they’d finished their meal and Eskel had taken the liberty to select ‘some’ bottles from the cellar, Regis arrived to a slightly tipsy bunch of witchers and a sober bard playing his fourth round of gwent with a giggling kitchen maid.

“Emilia will join us later.”, he informed Geralt as they sat down a few feet from the others. “She has her hands full with continuing the interrogation of the mula. She’s also trying to find his puppet master in between whatever she must do for Orianna, but it’s not easy. So, unfortunately no news as to who ordered the attack on Jaskier.” With a hesitant look towards Geralt, he continued: “Since she is taking quite a few risks for us, I asked Emilia if she would consider bringing her mate here. I thought it would be safer for him; one weight taken of her mind.”

Whatever compassion the witcher had for the vampiress’ situation and her struggle with the local vampires, it ended where he’d have to give up more space. Bringing a stranger into their own complicated setting was not an option but apparently, he didn’t have to worry about that.

“She refused – and didn’t seem happy about it either.”, his vampire friend said with a frown. “I even offered to look after him, watch out for him in her lair while she had to take care of things elsewhere. Apart from the research I do concerning the inheritance of mutagens, I am not of much use, but she adamantly refused that too.”

“Her choice, I guess. I’d say she’s cunning enough to know what she’s up against. About your research…”

“Ah, yes. It has proven quite tricky since there are no known cases. Unless we take into account the few children of witches.” Geralt slowly lowered his mug. He knew at least one of those. “However, their mutations were not forced, so it’s a different case with potential offspring of witchers.”

He growled. “Get to the point, Regis. What can we expect?”

The vampire folded his hands. “I am certain that the mutagens will affect the child. It will likely have some, if not all aspects you received through the Trial of the Grasses. Can you imagine a toddler being able to cast Igni?”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. What about Jaskier?”

“As for the pregnancy, I’m fairly sure that the occasional fevers will get worse at some point. We might need some magical assistance if things get out of hand. But Jaskier is young and strong. I think he will pull through.”

The witcher audibly sighed with relief. “Thank you. That’s about what I wanted to hear.”

Regis smiled slightly. “I don’t just say that to ease your mind. I do believe we will handle this.”

“Of course we will!” Lambert stalked over to him, obviously wavering, and clapped him on the shoulder. Yes, definitely drunk.

“You know brother, I am happy for you.”, he slurred as he propped down onto the chair next to Geralt. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Or another kid who’s forced to live like us.”

The older witcher couldn’t help his amused smile. For all his prickliness, Lambert was a reliable friend when it mattered.

“I wouldn’t force him into that life.”, he assured the drunk. “Also he’d be born with our abilities, not get them through the dreaded trial.”

“S’ true… hey, wait a sec.“ His brother looked up and blinked at Geralt. “He? Him?”

Geralt mimicked Jaskier’s shrug. “The omega knows best.”

“I do, even though no one ever believes me.” Jaskier called over to them and winked at Geralt. “You’ll see.”

When the warmth in his chest had him smile back, Eskel joined the other two witchers and Regis. “Pff, get a room, you two.”

“We’d love to”, Geralt retorted. “but you’ll hear everything within a three-mile radius anyway, so what’s the point.”

Lambert burst out laughing and Eskel choked on his wine, but whether the comment was directed at their superior hearing or Jaskier’s superior bedroom voice remained his secret since the familiar loud cracking noise in the yard heralded their next guest. A fresh breeze of night air made its way into the hall from the open door as Yennefer entered, hands on her hips and looking down on the lot, almost smiling.

“Now, what were you thinking to start without me?”

“Sorceress of sorceresseses!”, Lambert hollered and raised his mug to her.

“Gosh.” She looked him up and down with a dismissively raised eyebrow. “Sober up, I have news.” As she shed her travel attire and set down opposite Geralt and Regis; the rest of their friends gathered around. “The third professor seems alive and well. His name is Igor Zaytsev.”

“Finally, something.”, Eskel muttered, but Yen raised a hand to keep him quiet.

“An associate of mine tracked him down in Novigrad but couldn’t talk to him because of the squad of Redanian soldiers in front of the professor’s doorstep.”

“What do they want from him?”, Geralt asked.

“Nothing. As it happens, they guard him.”

“Huh. Funny, after his former colleagues have sizzled to crisps…”

“His research is certainly one of the most important breakthroughs in contemporary alchemy. He’s valuable to someone.”

“To us, for example.”, Geralt mentioned. “We need a way to reach out to him. Talk to him. I want the whole story.”

“It would also be good to know how Redanian officials are involved in this.”, Regis said.

“Right.”, Eskel agreed. “Last time I was around, the all mighty Eternal Flame didn’t give a rat’s ass about witchers.”

“This cure they found was supposed to heal sterility of all who have lost it due to magical causes.”

“Or traded it for power.”, Lambert mumbled, which owned him a telekinetic slap from the snap of Yen’s fingers.

“On second thought, keep your yap on that mug. It’s safer. Anyway…”, she turned back to the rest of the group. “There could be many after this cure. It is both dangerous and lucrative. The question still stands – how do we get through to this Igor?”

“Can’t you just, I don’ know, portal into his house?”, Eskel suggested.

“I can and I would if I wanted to alert whoever is undoubtedly watching over him. We need to find a less intrusive way; preferably one that also secures the professor’s favour.”

“His what now?” Lambert called. “After what he did?”

“I must agree with Jennifer.”, Regis chimed in. “Sometimes, it’s not so much about what would be justified but what the objective requires.”

Geralt nodded. “Not fond of the idea to try and torture answers out of him. Didn’t work with the mula either.”

For a moment, the room was filled with the kind of strained silence many thinking heads produced.

“Dijkstra.”, Jaskier said eventually and, after a few raised eyebrows directed at him, elaborated: “Dijkstra is our highest Redanian contact, is he not? I mean, by now, he must be. He’s become chancellor after Nilfgaard’s fall. Whatever official is linked to this Igor, he would know of it.”

“True. But Dijkstra…” Geralt huffed. “The way we parted last time, he made damn sure to prove what a soulless bastard he is. Not sure what he’d want from us for information on the professor. Or if there is even anything we could offer him.”

“But it is a logical next step.”, Yennefer concluded. “The least we can do is see where it leads.”

When each of his friends either nodded or shrugged, Geralt groaned. “Fine. I’ll contact him. Even if I’d hoped to never see the bastard again.”

“Tomorrow.”, Yen insisted and conjured a wineglass for herself. “Tonight, all of you are way to inebriated to fight evil or draft important letters. And I…” She poured herself a decent amount of Everluce. “intend to catch up.”  
  


\- - -

It wasn’t hard to convince the lot to stay in for the night and watch the fireworks. After all, nothing bad had happened in three weeks; they were tired from following clues and being on guard 24/7 and with so many of their powerful friends around, not even the Lodge of Sorceresses themselves would dare to come down on them.

When they had taken their wine glasses outside shortly before midnight, Emilia materialised from a gush of dark smoke. From the corner of his eye, Jaskier saw Regis’ expectant look but she only shook her head briefly. Well, the bard thought, at least they were one step closer an on the human’s side of things. That was enough to significantly improve his mood. That, and fireworks.

When the first multicoloured sparks enlightened the skies above the castle, he managed to forget about their problems for a few minutes. The tournament area was close enough to hear faint instruments, singing and the roaring laughter of happy drunk folk – fitting accompaniment for such a spectacle. Jaskier rested his elbows on the stonewall that separated the upper from the lower yard and counted the pyrotechnical blossoms against the dark horizon.

“I know you wanted to be there.” Geralt said, standing close to him.

Eventually, the bard shrugged. “I can be there next year.” He casually leaned his frame on Geralt. “You know, I accidently shared something with Emilia today and I wanted to let you know too.” When Geralt shot him a questioning and slightly concerned look, he just smiled and shook his head. “Nothing serious, don’t worry. It’s quite silly really, given the unknown threat and all. But... well. I wish- I mean I hope… he’ll have your eyes.”

Geralt didn’t reply instantly and when the bard looked up to him, his smile was overshadowed by a stricken expression in his eyes. “I hope he’ll have yours.”, he finally said under his breath without taking his gaze from the vibrantly illuminated view before them. “Eyes that enable him to live a more peaceful life.”

Their friends were laughing, drinking and arguing in the background, so although Jaskier didn’t usually express his affections towards Geralt when they were present, he extended a hand and grazed the stubble on the witcher’s cheek.

“Don’t worry about that tonight. No one can take this away from us. I know you won’t let them, not now and not later.”

To the bard’s surprise, the witcher took Jaskier’s hand in his and held it in place for a few seconds before lightly kissing the base of his palm. “Can’t help but worry sometimes. But you’re right. Not tonight.”

When the others returned to the cosy warmth and candlelight of the house, Eskel supported by Regis and Geralt, Lambert and Yen still bickering, Jaskier wanted to enjoy the light breeze and the fading last tunes of the distant music. He closed his eyes and leaned his back on the stonewall.

What it would be like tonight? Anarietta surely found someone else to push into the lake and order to dive after the golden fish. At least he wished that for her.

Emilia had stayed with him and he felt the vampiress’ gaze. “Do you regret anything? Feel like you’re missing out?”

He laughed. “God no. I mean, sure, everything changed. But wine, music and adventures- don’t get me wrong, it’s all great. But to actually find what a drunken state conjures up in smoke; what most songs praise and brief seconds of intimacy with strangers promise but never truly hold…” He trailed off as the recent memory of Geralt’s confession in the river came to his mind; his mate’s eyes shining with something like awe whenever he touched Jaskier’s slightly enlarged abdomen. “It wasn’t planned. None of this was. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Everything pales before what I have tonight.”

Emilia still didn’t say anything. When the bard looked over at her casually sitting on the low stonewall, she seemed deep in thought again.

“I am truly sorry. Not that it matters. But I am.”

“Because you led us astray in the mountains?” He huffed. “Yeah, I admit I wanted to strangle you at first. Then again, I suppose, in an accidental turn of events, or fate, or whatever… I owe you quite a lot.”

She sighed. “I am sorry.”

Just when Jaskier started to worry and wanted to ask what she was on about, he felt a dull pain at the back of his head.

And everything turned black.


End file.
